Just Bent
by definitelyalopez
Summary: Santana Lopez is one of the country's most promising new lawyers. But that was until she made a stupid, rookie mistake. Now, her career is in jeopardy and she's poised to enter the Guinness Book of World Records for the shortest law career in history. Will the woman who broke her young heart years ago be her saving grace?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

* * *

Santana Lopez's short career as an attorney is finished, the lawyers from across America (and the world, thank you very much to the world wide web) concur.

She lasted exactly five hours.

She's an instant media sensation. For all the wrong reasons, sadly. They hammer her from all sides: radio and television reporters and newspaper people.

_/_

* * *

_It happened a few hours ago, during a heavily-covered trial case that saw the famous New York District Attorney William Schuester pitted against the defendant: Charles Rudd Jr., the charming son of New York Senior Senator Charles Rudd. Young Rudd is accused of money laundering and having connections to the Mafia._

_With the media publicity Schuester and the case was getting, the district attorney was a shoo-in to be nominated and elected as Governor in next year's election. The word in the political world was this: Nail Rudd Jr., Schuester will be Governor._

_And Will was not about to let this chance pass by._

_Really, it's in the bag. He took no chances. _

_He prepared the case thoroughly and meticulously - putting all his assistants to work gathering evidences and cleaning up all the loose ends. Like, everything. All the loopholes have been sealed. He made sure that the jurors were locked every night where no one could touch them. He knew he was going against a powerful clan with impressive connections. _

_He won't take any chances._

_And most important of all, he had the game's ace - Jacob Andrews - his star witness who was heavily protected. He's Charles Jr.'s right hand (and once bestfriend) who decided his conscience couldn't take it anymore, so he sang like a bird._

_/_

* * *

_Santana Lopez came from a small town in Ohio - Lima. _

_Her father was a non hot-shot lawyer, her mother, a housewife. Before graduating high school, her father died of heart attack, leaving them with money just enough to cover her college expenses. _

_When he was still alive, Mr. Lopez never pushed her daughter to become a lawyer like him. But she was fascinated by law and justice. She had found her calling even before she stepped foot in middle school after all the time she spent watching her father in action (instead of playing with her classmates, she would rush from school to watch her father in action at the courtroom). _

_Gifted with high intellect, she was accelerated twice, allowing her to graduate high school at age 16._

_She attended Harvard, upon her mother's encouragement. She moved into the dormitory and got a job at the university library. She took up Economics (she was eyeing corporate law practice) at the said university before moving to Yale to get her Law degree._

_She was 23 when she finished law school, and earned the second highest academic award of her graduating class. She immediately took the review (bearing in mind that she needed to find a job real soon because her money's almost gone) after graduation._

_She passed the Bar on the first try. As a bonus, she placed second (again, but she wasn't complaining), only behind the bar topnotcher by 0.02% (the number two, she thought, would forever haunt her)._

_Her professor recommended her to the District Attorney, who was impressed. A rare feat considering Schuester was a man only impressed with himself._

_The day she took her oath was also her first day working under DA Schuester. _

_It was also the first day of the trial against Charles Rudd Jr. _

_She sat at the prosecutor's table, and watched Will Schuester at work. He was ruthless, that's for sure. He would not stop until he gets the answers he needed, even if that meant playing mind tricks with the opposition until he broke down their defenses._

_Finally, the much publicized Jacob Andrews took the stand. Schuester made sure that he destroyed Rudd Jr. with every word that came out of his prized witness' mouth._

_The defense team obviously were in deep shit. The defense attorney, Finn Hudson, asked for a recess seeing as it was almost lunch time so his cross examination would be uninterrupted. Judge Sylvester conceded, rapped her gravel on the bench and adjourned the court until two in the afternoon._

_If Atty. Santana Lopez would look back, she would have to point at this time as the moment her career crumbled._

_/_

_Santana Lopez continued to sit on her spot, and watched DA Schuester answered the reporters' questions. She internally sneered at how the District Attorney was obviously reveling at the attention. Soon, questions were directed to his staff. Santana sighed. She longed to be in that position. But what can she do? She only took her oath a little over three hours ago. She would have to wait for her turn._

_She watched as a man in a fancy suit said something to DA Schuester before walking away from the group. He was carrying an envelope._

_"Miss Lopez?" Her eyes widened in surprise. How could this man know her?_

_"Yes?"_

_"DA Schuester asked me give this to you. Please hand it to Jacob Andrews. The DA wants him to refresh his memory with everything that's in here because the defense team will go at him aggressively in a few hours. Make sure he gets this, okay?"_

_"Sure."_

_"Please go now. We can't waste any time."_

_"Yes Sir." Santana excitedly went to see Andrews, too eager to be part of the action. She requested permission from Andrews' guards, handed the envelope to the witness and told him the DA's instructions. She then left with a fellow new lawyer for lunch. _

_She wasn't far away when she heard a commotion. They rushed to the scene and saw that it there was pandemonium. They saw DA Schuester shouting instructions to the policemen. As she came closer, one of Andrews' guards pointed at her and the next thing she knew, she was being grabbed and placed under arrest._

_"What's happening?!" She asked as she was being moved to the judge's chamber._

_Inside Sue Sylvester's chamber, DA Schuester was ready to kill Santana._

_"Who paid you to give the envelope to Andrews?!" He screamed._

_"What? I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"So you just walk up to my witness, and delivered this?" He opened the envelope, revealing digitally altered photos of the witness' wife and children, brutally 'mutilated'. Santana stared at the photos, mortified._

_She told them what happened but DA Schuester wouldn't hear a word. All he said was he didn't order anyone to give Lopez any envelope._

_Finn Hudson smirked. "If I can't cross examine Andrews, I'm moving for a mistrial your honor." _

_Translation? Charles Rudd Jr. would be walking out, a free man._

_"Schuester? Did you tell your witness that he can be held in contempt?"_

_"Yes, your honor. But he's more scared of them than of us. He thinks we can't protect him anymore." He gave Santana a venomous look._

_"You know what this means. I'm afraid this court has no choice but to grant Hudson's request. I'm declaring a mistrial."_

_DA Schuester was quiet. Before him, all his plans, his dreams were wiped out._

_"If there's nothing else -." Judge Sylvester trailed on._

_"There is, Your Honor! I want this woman to be held for conspiracy, obstruction of justice and tampering with the witness!" He spat at the new lawyer._

_"They're not true! I am innocent!" Santana defended._

_"Right. Your Honor, I request that an Appellate Court do an investigation and begin a disbarment procedure against this woman." William said in rage._

_"Noted. Miss Lopez, you're dismissed. You may go. Someone will get in touch with you soon." Judge Sylvester left the room followed by a smug Hudson._

_"I'm going to destroy you, Lopez. I'm going to make sure of that." Will said without a trace of remorse._

/

* * *

Santana Lopez is all over the news. Many feel bad for her, saying she' s innocent and just made a stupid, rookie mistake.

Some mocked her, laughing at how absurd she was. Still, some believe she was paid by the Rudds to deliver the envelope.

/

At a posh restaurant, the Rudds are celebrating. Charles Jr. raises his glass while watching Santana Lopez on the screen. He tips his glass and toasts in her honor.

/

At a Manhattan apartment, a blonde is watching the news after her colleague told her about what happened. The mention of the name was all it took for her to open her television. As soon as she saw that familiar, yet visibly more matured Latina, her heart ached.

Santana has always been a tough girl.

But one of her weaknesses is her trusting nature. There were many times in the past when she got hurt because of her wide-eyed eagerness to help others or make them feel better.

Santana's strength is also her greatest weakness: she trusts so easily.

Brittany Pierce would know. In fact, she was one of those who hurt the girl many years ago.

Brittany sighed. She waited so long for the chance to make it up to the Latina.

Maybe this is it?

/

* * *

_Brittany had been born and raised in New York to a pretty affluent family. Her parents worked so hard to get to where they were. She attended private schools and went to Columbia University for college where she earned a business degree. It was in the university that she met Frannie Fabray, a small town girl wanting to make it big. Frannie took up Finance and Economics and aced her classes. They met during a school event and had been bestfriends since then._

_On one occasion, Frannie invited the taller blonde (and a couple more of her friends) to Lima for her sister's birthday party. Without anything to do, she relented._

_It was there that Brittany met Santana. She was young, just 14 (when Frannie's baby sister, Quinn and most of their friends were 16). Brittany was 21._

_Against Frannie's wishes, they forged a relationship that was definitely more than friendship. With Santana being her baby sister's bestfriend, Frannie was protective of the brunette. She treated Santana like a baby sister too._

_But Brittany didn't listen. She was smitten._

_She pursued Santana and even made it a point to fly to Lima (and one occasion, drove for over nine hours) to see the younger girl._

_Everything was going great until Brittany finished her courses. On a pre-graduation party, drunk, and high from the emotions of surpassing a challenging college life, she cheated on Santana. She kept it to her, even to Frannie. It wasn't until a couple of weeks later that Frannie overheard the guy she slept with spilled the beans. To say that Frannie was furious would be an understatement. _

_She threatened to be the one to tell Santana if Britt won't do it soon._

_Faced with no other option, Brittany came clean. _

_Santana was devastated. But what hurt her the most were the lies Brittany told her. She did ask the older girl where she was that night. Brittany said she was with her parents, having dinner with their relatives._

_Santana only had one rule in their relationship: __Don't lie to me._

_Brittany lied and she broke San's only rule. __The same rule that her father lived with and obviously passed on to his only child. His only rule with his clients was: "Tell me everything. But if you lie to me about one thing, I'm dropping you. I won't represent you anymore."_

_Despite the devastation, Santana took it gracefully. Instead of whining and falling into depression, she joined her father more in his work. She was there in his study, in the courtroom; and they talked and talked and talked about the criminal justice system, his cases, and her dreams._

_Brittany took it worse than expected. She wallowed in sadness (her relationship with Frannie was strained). It took her a while to make up her mind about the thing she wanted to do with her life. She dabbled into businesses after resigning from a number of corporate jobs._

_After a friend's mother disappeared (she ran off with a younger man) and said friend asked for her help to trace her mom, she knew she found what she wanted to do in life. Again, despite her parents' furious disapproval, she went on to put up her own private investigation firm. She knew people best. She knew tendencies. She's got connections (she's naturally friendly) and she loved discovering things. Business was a boom a year since its inception._

_But despite immersing herself to her work, she was genuinely empty. She never really recovered from the breakup. She kept tabs on the Latina. She knew Santana went to Harvard. She knew that she was doing well in college and in law school. She knew that she passed the Bar on the first try and placed second. She did send flowers to Santana's tiny Manhattan apartment anonymously after learning of this feat._

_/_

* * *

Santana went out of her way to find jobs.

The results are always the same. Nobody is interested in hiring her.

Or when they are, it is just out of curiosity. She knows she's extremely good-looking (a news channel dedicated a 30-minute 'special' about her, allocating 17 minutes of it analyzing her physical appearance, five minutes on her credentials and the remaining eight minutes have been used to give her suggestions on the possible career she could have in the show business after she gets disbarred).

She has offers from agents and producers left and right to appear on television shows, and even commercials since they are all so sure that her career as a lawyer is over. So really, it didn't come as a surprise when some of these 'curios' firms propositioned her, offering their _help_. She would internally roll her eyes before standing up and thanking the men politely.

Now, she's back in her small and cheap apartment, defeated. After showering, she plops down on the couch, eating some cup noodles. She's halfway through her cup when there are knocks on the door. With a sigh, she lazily opened the door.

"Yes?" She's face to face with a tall, attractive woman in her early 30's wearing a power suit.

"Miss Lopez?"

"What can I do for you?"

"Hi. I'm Georgia Smith, a member of the Disciplinary Committee of New York Bar Association. I'm here to begin the disbarment proceedings against you upon the request of DA William Schuester."

/

* * *

**Just giving you an overview/introduction of the main characters in this story :)**

**Brittana meeting next chapter. Clue: They'll forge a professional partnership.**

**Plot picks up next chapter. More drama ensues (professional and a little bit of personal drama).**

**Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

* * *

"He's really itching to destroy me, huh?" Santana more of states than questions.

"I understand what you're feeling Miss Lopez -."

"Understand?" She chuckles bitterly. "No you don't. You have seen your whole career bloom right before your eyes, every single day, for the past what? 10? 15 years?"

"Nine."

"Nine." She nods. "Good for you. I had five hours." She laughs sarcastically. "Sweet, huh?"

"May I please talk to you inside, Miss Lopez?" The older lawyer asks politely, causing Santana to sigh apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Please, come in." Georgia Smith smiles graciously before entering the tiniest apartment she's been in. Her eyes instantly roams around the space (though calling it that would be pushing it) and right then and there, all her theories about the young lawyer are put to test.

When the District Attorney called her up a couple of days ago, he painted an ugly picture of Santana Lopez. Schuester was livid and pressured the committee to strip Lopez of her title. She could have put out her verdict right then and there, but being the methodical and fair lawyer that she is, she decided to go through the process. She read and studied the transcript until the wee hours of the morning. Schuester had done everything except to beat Santana Lopez with a baseball bat. Yet Lopez stuck to her story.

The following day, she ran a check on the troubled lawyer and as far as she could determine, Lopez had no crime connections, nor was there anything that would link her to the Rudds.

Santana Lopez's story was so transparently naive that it had a ring of truth to it. She assigned one of her paralegal assistants to gather all information about Santana Lopez. Said assistant came back from her trip with a 'mental identity kit' of Lopez - pieces filled in by some people from Lima who saw her grow up, college and Law professors, even her landlady as well as some members of a law firm Lopez had her clerkship. The picture she and her paralegal came up with had no semblance to the picture William Schuester painted.

Right now, she's here to get Santana's side of the story. And probably, to crack her facade, if she's indeed putting up one.

"You want something to drink?" Santana snaps her out of her thoughts.

"No, I'm good, thank you."

"Alright. You can take a seat, Atty. Smith."

"Oh."

"So. Let me guess...you're here to indict me?"

"No. No of course not." Georgia clears her throat. "I'm here to ask you a few questions, not to judge you."

"I don't know why you came here. You could have just reviewed the transcript during my 'grilling' at Judge Sylvester's chamber."

"I already did that, Miss Lopez. But there are lots of questions that haven't been answered by the transcript. And the District Attorney is obviously driven with hate right now, he's being irrational. I want both sides, all angles. I am familiar with the back-breaking hours of study and hardwork it takes to become a lawyer and pass the Bar. It's a prize that takes years to attain, Miss Lopez. I know that. I've been there. And I'm not going to deprive anybody of it unless I am certain that there's justification for doing so. So it would really be appreciated if you tell me everything you could remember."

Santana sighs before recounting her story, not even pausing to take a breather.

"Do you have any idea why you were chosen to deliver the envelope?"

"I don't know. I don't even know Charles Rudd Jr. or any of the Rudds personally. Sure, I've seen the father on TV, but that's just about it."

"Sure. But why you, though?"

"Maybe I seemed to be the stupidest?" She says bitterly. "That was my only crime, Atty. Smith and I plead guilty. Guilty of being stupid. But there's no law against stupidity, right?" Georgia looks at Santana intently, looking for any sign of lying. She has always been a great reader of people and right now, Santana doesn't look like she's lying.

"Very well, Miss Lopez, I've got everything I need." She stands from her seat, taking one last look at the apartment.

_"Someone who got paid by the Rudds wouldn't be living in this kind of place". She thinks. "And she wouldn't be eating cup noodles for dinner." She adds pensively._

"Thank you for your time. Please be assured that I'll handle the case fairly and responsibly."

"Thank you. And Atty. Smith?"

"Yes?"

"Will you please let me know first if you find me guilty? Before you tell anyone else?"

"I suppose I can't do that. But for the sake of curiosity, may I ask why you want me to do that?"

"So I could jump from the building before another round of media coverage kill my non-existent career again."

"Miss Lopez -."

"That was a joke. I just want to be prepared. Not that I would run or something. I just want to prepare myself."

"The only thing I can promise you is that you'll hear about the decision from me, not from anyone else."

"Fair enough. Thank you."

/

* * *

Santana is getting ready for bed when once again, there are knocks on her door.

"Who is it?!" She asks, annoyed.

"San, it's me." Santana hurriedly opens the door, only to be engulfed in a tight, fierce hug.

"Quinn..."

"I'm so sorry I just came today. I was in London and I haven't been checking my phone. I flew here as soon as I heard." Quinn whispers in her ear.

"I didn't know what was in the envelope, Q -."

"I know. I believe you, Santana. You'll be fine. I'm here, okay?"

"I don't know what to do. Nobody wants to take me in. I'm all over the news, and it's so, so bad, Quinn." Santana finally breaks down - all the pent up anger, frustration and fear surfacing. "I'm done, Quinn. I am so damn done."

"Shhhh...No, you're not. Listen to me, Santana. You're far from done. I'm sure of that. You'll get out this and you'll see, you'll be stronger and invincible."

"But Schuester -."

"Is a douchebag. He's a baby and he's a bully."

"Even if I get vindicated, he's going to ruin me, Q. He promised he will. Nobody wants to hire me!"

"You can put up your own practice. You've always dreamed of that, right?" Quinn suggests.

"Right. But that plan has flaws. Like flaws with a capital F. I don't have any money, I still have to pay those loans - and no, I'm not asking any financial help from you. You will not take that risk. And frankly, do you really think I'll have any clients?"

"That's just an option. I have another suggestion."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you, but you have to promise that you won't laugh at me." Quinn answers nervously as she walks towards the couch. "God, Santana, how could you live in this place? My apartment is -."

"So huge and expensive I can't afford to live with you."

"I'm not asking you to -."

"I won't live with you until I am able to pay for my rent. Case closed."

"Whatever."

"So? What do you want to tell me? What's your other brilliant suggestion?" Santana asks with a raised brow.

"I'm running in next year's election. For Governor."

"You're running in - wait, what?!"

"I said I'm running. The party wants me to run." Santana starts laughing uncontrollably, causing Quinn to throw a cushion to her face.

"What the fuck, Fabray?"

"I told you not to laugh."

"But it's so funny!" Santana chuckles, only to stop moments later when she sees that her friend doesn't seem to be kidding. "Holy shit! You're not kidding!"

"I'm not."

"The Democratic Party?"

"Of course." Santana is silent. Her gaze moves from Quinn to her walls.

"Say something Santana."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to run?"

"You know why."

"I've been hoping you wouldn't, you know? Politics is so dirty, Quinn. It's harder and dirtier and more fucked up than the law profession. As your bestfriend, I don't want you to be involved in that world."

"Santana -."

"But I'll be lying if I'll say I didn't see this coming."

"Really?"

"Of course. I really thought you'll join me in Law school, you know? But when you decided not to, and moved here in New York and ran for the New York Senate at 24, I knew it was only the start." Santana sighs.

* * *

_After college, Quinn moved to New York to be with her family. Santana was disappointed that her bestfriend wouldn't be off to Yale for Law school but she shrugged it off. They have long stopped meddling with each other's decisions._

_In Harvard, Quinn was a high-profile student activist. Santana joined her on some occasions, but she wasn't as active as Quinn. She was more focused on her studies and enjoyed being in the backseat - advising Quinn on the causes she fought, and more importantly, writing Quinn's speeches. When Quinn decided to run as president for the university's Undergraduate Council (UC), Santana was her adviser, campaign manager and speech writer._

_When Quinn won, she begged Santana to be the UC's official spokesperson and adviser. After much prodding, she relented. And so began their adventures together. They were the council's one-two punch. They were the Jack-Bobby Kennedy of the UC - with Santana handling the tough jobs and taking the criticisms so Quinn could focus on doing her task and not worry about the 'bad press'._

_In the morning commencement exercises, Santana gave the rousing Latin salutatory. Later that afternoon, Quinn was chosen to be one of the four undergrad seniors to speak during the Class Day (with Tina Fey as the invited speaker). The speech that Quinn delivered and Santana prepared brought the house down. By the time they graduated, Quinn was already such a notable figure that she was featured, along with four other student speaker from other colleges - as well as excerpts from their commencement address - in the June 2016 issue of Time in an article titled, simply "The Class of '16"._

_There was no rivalry. They both genuinely supported each other._

_When she was 24, Quinn served in the New York State Senate - the youngest woman to do so in the history of New York. In that seat she was active in Education and Health reform issues and Women's rights._

* * *

"I have a feeling I know what you're getting at, Fabray."

"It's just a suggestion. I still think you should go on with your own practice."

"Suppose I get disbarred." Santana clears her throat. "I could join your team -."

"Not just _join _my team. Should you say yes, you'll be _my _team."

"Look, Quinn. I would love to. But that would be political suicide on your end. I'm being hammered from all sides. You can't be associated with me."

"I will continue to be associated with you. You're my bestfriend, Santana! And frankly, you won't be disbarred. Yes, you could face some serious issues with Schuester because he's not one to forgive -."

"You can't possibly say that, Quinn. Georgia Smith came here earlier to start the disbarment procedure against me. So don't say I won't be disbarred. I have as much chance to be disbarred as to be allowed to practice. And you're running against Schuester! What would he think? That I deliberately sabotaged the case that was supposed to be his ticket to the nomination?"

"He was never a candidate. No one within the party wants him. It was a word that he himself spread to create a buzz around himself. He doesn't have a substantial donor, Santana."

"I don't know, Quinn. I like to help, believe me I do. And I may. But not in the same capacity as before. It's too risky. I'm a liability as of now. Think about it."

"You're never a liability. Look, the election's not until a little over a year. Let's just focus on you for now and what we need to do to turn this thing around."

"I want to practice, Quinn. I want to be a trial lawyer."

"Then be a trial lawyer. But you've got to allow me to help you."

"Fine. But I don't need your money."

"Fine."

"Do you really think I won't be disbarred?" Santana asks insecurely.

"Have you, by any chance, talked to Charles Rudd, senior or junior?"

"Never."

"Bumped into them or something?"

"Never."

"You never interacted with them?"

Santana rolls her eyes before answering. "Never."

"Then they can't link you to them."

"I hope so."

"Have the Rudds contacted you after the trial?"

"No."

"Good. Look, you should come over to my apartment. I'm alone. You're alone. I've got a stash of alcohol back home. What do you say we get drunk tonight?"

"I don't know, Quinn. I need to go out and find a job tomorrow."

"Take a break. Do it the day after tomorrow!"

"Q -."

"I'm not taking no for an answer."

/

* * *

The duo are walking on the sidewalk, laughing at something the blonde is sharing about her trip to London as they approach Quinn's apartment building.

As soon as they were on the lobby, Santana stops on her track, causing Quinn to crease her forehead and follow her bestfriend's gaze. Her breath hitched and she felt her chest tighten.

It's been years.

It's been years but she still could not forget.

Sure, she has forgiven her. At some point, she even empathized with the other woman.

But still, she hasn't forgotten.

"H-Hi. Hi Santana. Quinn." Brittany acknowledges the other blonde even if her eyes are fixed on Santana. "Can I talk to you for a second, San?" She asks pleadingly, blue eyes filled with fear, sadness and hope.

"What are you doing here, Brittany?" Quinn questions lowly.

"I...I just want to talk to Santana. It won't be long. Just a few minutes."

"How did you know we're here?"

"I called Frannie...and..and she said you were flying back home today. She didn't tell me you'll see Santana, but I just assumed. So I tried to wait for you here. I wasn't sure San will be be with you though."

"Right." Quinn says with an eyeroll. "So you're saying you don't know where Santana lives?"

"I -."

"Can you give us a minute, Q?" Santana cuts.

"But -."

"This won't be long. Right, Brittany?" Santana asks, unimpressed.

"Yes."

"Fine. I'll talk to the receptionist for a minute. Then I expect your conversation to be over in a minute. Intiendes?" She addresses Brittany.

"Understood."

"Great." As soon as Quinn starts to walk away, Brittany begins her case, pulling out a card and giving it to Santana.

"Listen, I know I'm the last person you want to talk to right now, but I want to take my chance anyway. Quinn is definitely serious about the time, so I'm not going to waste it and just shoot. I believe in you, San. Always. And I don't know what you're planning to do, but I know that you've always wanted to become a lawyer - a trial lawyer like your Dad. I know your dreams, well, at least, I know what your dreams _were. _So, just in case you want...or if you're interested... I have this huge office floor that has about two more vacant rooms. And I know you'll never ask me for help...so...it's 500 dollars a month, both of the rooms. Give me a call if you're interested." She smiles at Santana expectantly before nodding towards Quinn's direction. "I really, really missed you. So much. But -.' Quinn clears her throat loudly, signalling the end of the conversation. "Maybe next time?"

"I don't know, Britt."

"Alright. I really hope we could discuss this, San. Some other time?" She tries again.

"Maybe. I got to go, Britt. Thanks. I guess. Goodnight."

"Okay. Goodnight." Brittany whispers sadly as she watches her ex leave.

/

* * *

**Will Santana be disbarred? Will she a part ofQuinn's team?**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

* * *

Despite Quinn's protests, Santana decides to visit the address Brittany had given her. She couldn't find any job. So while waiting for the committee's decision, she might as well just start practicing law.

She can't mope and wait around forever.

She's surprised to see that Brittany's office is located at a prime building in Manhattan. Not only that, the two rooms that she's offering at five hundred dollars a month is a bargain. She knows that. She knows she could never find any place elsewhere for that amount. Hell, Brittany might as well just give it to her for free.

"I don't think I'll need two rooms." She states.

"Oh. Okay then. Which one do you prefer?" Brittany asks.

"The smaller one."

"Okay."

"How much would that be?"

"Uh. 150."

"Look, Britt. I appreciate what you're doing, but please don't treat me like an imbecile fool who can't pay for anything."

"I'm not. It's just, the two rooms were for five hundred. But this is smaller. So it shouldn't be divided equally."

"Right."

"How about a deal, San? When your business starts rolling, we'll talk about an increase. How does that sound?"

"I'll take it."

"Perfect. When do you want to move your things in? I have someone who will help you."

"No need. Quinn will be the one who'll set up the office tomorrow. But thanks anyway."

"Uh. That's cool."

"I'll come back with the rent. Thank you, Brittany."

"Anytime."

* * *

Brittany gave Santana the sign that bears her name which the two later place at the lawyer's door.

_Santana Lopez_

_Attorney at Law_

They both watch the sign with mixed feelings - one has disbelief written all over her face, the other has a look of pride.

* * *

Now that she has an office, the only thing that's missing are the clients.

After selling her class ring (and that watch that her father gave her on her 18th birthday) to pay for a couple of months' rent (both her office and apartment), she decides that it's time to get back on her feet. No longer able to afford even the cheapest meals, she would drink coffee and a slice of wheat bread for breakfast, and the same bread for dinner. She doesn't eat lunch.

For the next couple of days, she will come to her office by 8 am and just watch the clock (provided by Brittany after she insisted that every 'tenant' gets one) hit the five p.m. mark. There will be no client.

Not a single one.

Then, dejectedly, she'll lock her door and go back home or crash at Quinn's apartment.

The pattern continued for a couple more days, only this time, she would find Brittany's secretary coming in during fixed intervals - 9 am, 12 noon and 3 pm - each time holding a container of snacks, lunch, soup or sandwiches and her favorite coffee. When confronted as to why she knows what her favorite coffee is, Candice, the secretary, offers a shrug and a nonchalant _'It's my favorite, so I thought I'd buy you one. Didn't know you'd like it too. So.'_

At the start of her second week, she receives a call from Georgia Smith.

"Good morning Atty. Smith." She answers nervously.

"Good morning Miss Lopez. How are you doing?"

"I've been better, but thank you for asking."

"This will be quick. After our talk, I recommended that the disbarment proceedings against you be dropped. Now after that, the committee members deliberated and the official decision has been reached today. Miss Lopez, I'm happy to inform you that the disbarment proceedings has been dropped. You may proceed with your practice."

Santana closes her eyes and offered a heartfelt prayer. "This means a lot to me. Thank you so much."

"Don't. Thanking me would mean I've done it for you. I just did my job, Miss Lopez."

"I know. But still, thank you."

"Can I know if you intend to practice law here in New York?"

"Yes. May I ask why, Ma'am?" She asks in confusion.

"Just a word of caution. The District Attorney is not happy with our decision. I can't tell you the exact words but he wants me to deliver a message to you in case you decide to practice here."

"What is it, Ma'am?" She grabs her pen, needing something to release her stress on to.

"He said and I quote, "I will wipe her out". Or something to that effect."

"Message received Madam." Santana chuckles dryly.

"Just work hard. Nothing's going to happen to you if you work hard and are honest and fair. Anyway, I have to go. I just called to break the news to you before you hear it from anybody else, as discussed before. Thank you for time and have a good day." The line went dead before Santana could thank the older lawyer further.

Santana remains rooted on her seat, eyes fixed on the clock.

She could finally start over.

Or just start, period.

The worst is over.

Or is it?

/

* * *

Santana's first client came to her office exactly a month since she moved into Brittany's floor. He wants Santana to handle a probate.

Ryan Mitts looks eerily familiar but she can't seem to place him. Santana's positive she's seen him before, but she has rack her brains out and came up empty-handed.

"So, can you help me?" He asks, not looking directly at the lawyer.

"Of course. Are you the sole executor?"

"Yes."

"Any challenges to the will?"

"None that I know of."

"Great. I'll look into the will and all the corresponding taxes. Are you free tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Cool. I'll meet you at your office tomorrow. 9 am good?"

"That's good."

"Alright." He smiles at Santana and hurriedly heads for the door.

"Sorry, but I just can't shake this feeling that I know you. Have we met before?" The lawyers questions.

"No. We haven't." Ryan answers swiftly.

"I guess. Sorry." He offers her another awkward glance before nodding curtly and exiting her office.

/

Santana gets another case a week later, this time, an altercation case between two affluent men (boys).

"Alright Mr. Benson, I understand that you want to file a case against Matthew Camp. Now please tell me what happened at the bar that night."

James Benson retells the story of the fight that caused damages to his face and limbs.

"He started it?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Do you know him before the incident?"

"Yes Ma'am. We went to the same college years ago."

"And you've been involved in fights before? With him?"

"Little fights, mostly verbal. We never really got to the point where we physically attacked each other."

"Until last night."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Have you done anything that warrants such a reaction from Mr. Camp?"

"No, Ma'am I haven't. We just really didn't like each other from the get go. Or maybe, it has something to do with us being business competitors. We both own restaurants, adjacent to each other."

"I see. I understand that this happened two nights ago. Did you file a police report?"

"Yeah."

"Have you went to the doctor to get a medical report?"

"Yes."

"At least your sense hasn't been completely knocked out of your head." She mutters under her breath,

"Sorry, Atty. Lopez?"

"Nothing. Anyway, where did you hear about me?"

"You're a bit popular on the streets." He answers shyly, albeit evasively.

"Hmm. I'm not listed in any directory or something. I just got this office a month ago. How did you find me?"

"Uh. From a friend?"

"From a friend. Tell me, do I know this friend of yours?" James gulps before answering.

"No, Atty. Lopez. I think she - no he, he just heard it from a friend of a friend or something." He fidgets in his chair.

"Okay. I'll work on this case and I'll get back to you tomorrow. For now, please stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Right. I will."

/

Santana confronted Quinn about her suspicions.

"Don't lie to me, Fabray. You sent those guys, didn't you?"

"What guys?"

"The _clients?"_

"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't sent one soul to your office."

"You're not lying."

"Of course I'm not."

"But why would those affluent men choose me to handle their cases?"

"I don't know, Santana. Maybe that's because those news had a tiny part mentioning your educational background and achievements? They weren't all bad, I tell you."

"Right."

"Look. They went to you because they thought you're the best person for the job. End of discussion. By the way, have you seen Schuester's interview about his plans for next year's elections? Man was livid! The reporter kept on shoving the poll numbers on his face. He's trailing by 5 points behind me, by the way."

"Ugh. I don't want to hear that name. I just came out of the nightmare that is Will Schuester and I don't intend on reliving it."

* * *

Similar cases came to Santana's office in the coming weeks. She should be happy. She's starting to get her own clients, a couple of them coming back for some more cases or simple legal advices. Yet she craves that courtroom thrill. More often than not, her cases didn't reach the court. She was able to settle them off court (which is technically good) but Santana yearns for more. She wants to be like her Dad, representing the poor and marginalized. Now, she feels like she's doing him a disservice - having rich clients, and most of all, tainting his good name after the controversy she got into.

One morning, on her second month at her own practice, she gets a visit from an old friend.

"Noah?"

"Hey Lopez." Noah Puckerman walks towards his old flame and friend and hugs her.

"It's really you. What happened to your mohawk?" She teases as her eyes landed on him. The years have been good on Puck. He looks different, more proper. He's wearing a light blue long sleeves, tucked in his well-pressed jeans and nicely polished leather shoes.

"I've outgrown my mohawk." He laughs sheepishly.

"Please sit down. I can only offer you water. Things aren't as good as I expected them to be." She kids.

"No, it's okay. Do you have an appointment or something? It's almost lunch time. Let's go out?"

"I'm waiting for the twist."

"What twist?"

"Are you for real? You're not going to say something stupid or perverted?"

"Nah." He laughs. "Not me anymore."

"What happened to you."

"Can we talk about it over lunch? I'm starving."

"Fine. Let me just -."

"And don't bring any money. I'm paying." Santana narrows her eyes at him.

"I can't help but be scared, Noah. The last time you took me to lunch, we ended up ditching because you had no money!" Puck gamely grabs his wallet and pulls out a couple of bills.

"I have money now, trust me. No more ditching."

"Fine. Just know that if you do something wrong, I'll be sure to put you in jail."

"Got it." The two walk out of the lawyer's office and decided to dine at the nearby restaurant, Back Door, a diner that prides itself with giving the customers a private dining experience. After ordering, Santana starts to question Puck.

"So what do you do now?"

"You really didn't keep tabs with anyone, did you?" He sneers.

"I was busy!" Santana defends herself, causing Noah to smile affectionately at her.

"Yeah, yeah! College and Law School." He says, making a face. "Anyway, after highschool, you know I went to LA right?" Santana nods, motioning for Puck to continue. "Well, things didn't work out as I expected them to. I pretty much worked all the odd jobs you could think of. Then I got into modelling about three years after highschool. Nothing fancy, but they helped pay the bills. Then I got cast for a music video of an up and coming artist. We were goofing around during the shoot and the producers heard me singing. Long story short, they signed me up, I put out an album, it flopped big time. They offered me a job in the label instead and I started out writing songs with them until they promoted me to one of their music execs. I look for new talents and help out in putting out all those songs."

"Wow Noah! That's wonderful!"

"You're one to talk! Harvard and Yale? Now you're a lawyer." He says with pride in his voice. He dated Santana briefly in highschool and despite their relationship not working out (something he will honestly admit was his fault to anyone who asks), he genuinely cared for Santana. He still does. He knew even back then that the girl will be destined for greater things. When Santana dated Brittany, Puck was a personal witness to something epic. He was hurt when he saw Santana so devastated.

"It was a helluva rough time, Noah. I'm sure you know why." She looks at him knowingly.

"Of course. I watched the news everyday since it broke out. I wanted to call you but I couldn't get your number. I tried contacting Quinn but I think that woman never checks her phone."

"She was in London and as soon as she returned, she closed her personal phone because people would not stop bothering her."

"I never believed Schuester, you know? He looks so greasy, he scares me." He crunches his face in disgust, earning a few chuckles from the woman in front of her.

"Gross. And how did you find me, by the way?"

"I flew to Lima and asked your Mom." Santana's eyes widen at the information.

"Really?"

"Like, I begged, woman! She caved in. Said you specifically requested that she doesn't give out your address because you need some space."

"I haven't come home for a while now."

"She's doing great, San. Looks amazing too." He offers sincerely.

"That's good to hear." Their food arrives, stopping their conversation momentarily. As soon as the waitress left, they talk some more; catching up.

"You know, I'm still waiting for the real reason you're here." Santana ribs. "Come on, I know you wanted to see how I am, but you could have just called me. Mom would not have given you my address if it's not urgent."

Puck clears his throat and looks into Santana's eyes. He's busted, not because he's too easy to read, but because Santana always knows when somebody's lying. It's like her gift.

"I need your help -."

"I knew it!" She fist-pumps, as if getting the answer to a difficult Quiz Bee question.

"Well, not really for me."

"Your girlfriend? Your mom?"

"No. My mother's dead, by the way. Four years ago. Lung cancer."

"Oh shit. I'm sorry, Noah."

"It's cool. I just sometimes wish that she'd live to see me today, you know? She only saw the mess that was me." He smiles remorsefully.

"She's definitely proud of you. What's important is _the now_."

"This is getting depressing."

"I know. So come on! What do you need?"

"It's Lauren actually..."

"Lauren? As in Zizes? Who did she beat this time?"

"It's serious, Santana."

"Fine. Tell me what happened."

"We got back together after highschool -."

"Gross."

"Will you listen?"

"Uh oh."

"We lived in LA for a while but then broke up again -."

"Inevitably."

"And she moved to New York. I had no idea what happened to her until about a month ago. Her sister looked for me in LA to ask for my help. Santana, Lauren's in jail."

"Where?" Santana turns serious.

"Bedford Hills."

"Offense?"

"She's serving jail for assault of her landlady. Six months. She has already served four months of her sentence."

"Assault?"

"Look, Santana. When we were in LA, she changed. Like, really changed. But when she got here in New York, she got involved with bad people. Like, very bad people. Think: Highschool me but a hundred times worse. She robbed stores and got into fights. She was also an underground fighter - you know? People beating each other up for money?"

"Of course I know what that is!"

"Sorry."

"So she's serving jail. She has two months left. What do you want me to do? Bring her out? Let her complete her sentence, Noah. That might soften her up."

"You don't get it, Lopez." Puck mutters lowly. "Listen to me. While inside Bedford, she killed a fellow inmate. She's facing the death penalty. I've visited her and she insisted that it was self-defense."

"What the actual fuck, Noah?"

"I've talked to a bunch of lawyers already and nobody would take the case. Please, Santana? You're the only one who can help her." He pleads.

"Is there any witness to the murder?"

"Yeah. About a hundred. It happened in the grounds, while they were exercising."

"No."

"Santana -."

"No Noah! Do you have any idea what you're asking of me? You're asking me to get into another war while I'm still recuperating from a bomb explosion! I suffered from all the media lambasting and I have yet to move on from that and now you want me to defend a murderer. You might as well shoot me, Noah. Can't you see the media circus that will accompany that case?"

"Please, Santana. I'm sorry. But I know that you're the only person who can help her."

"I'm sorry, Noah. I want to help, but I will not represent her."

"It was self-defense, Santana."

"Can the one hundred witnesses say that?"

"Can you take a look at it, please? I'm begging you. I'l pay for -."

"It's not about the money, Noah! God! If you only knew!"

"San -."

"This is not just about Lauren. You want me to break it down for you? I will. If I'm lucky, Schuester will take on this case because he wants to destroy me. You can look up his career record if you want some information into the way he works. That's the best case scenario. It's about humiliating me at the expense of Lauren. It's about inflicting that trauma in me as soon as Zizes dies of lethal injection because then, it will be my fault -."

"It won't -."

"No you listen. He won't give a damn about Lauren. In the end, she'll be just a pawn in his game. Do you get me, Puck? It's a lose-lose situation. It's career suicide for me and death for Zizes."

"I do. Of course I do. But I'm desperate here, Santana. You're the only person capable of defending her. I know you've always wanted to be like Miguel. He defended the marginalized - those people who nobody believed in or listened to -."

"Don't bring my father into this, Noah." Santana warns, grateful that they came in early and there are very few people in the restaurant.

"I bet my life that it was self-defense, San. Nobody believes her but me and her sister. But I'm telling you, she's not a bad person."

"You may believe that, but the only important question will be: will the jury believe that?"

"I think you can make them."

"Look, I can't promise anything. The best I could do is to take a look into it. This doesn't mean I'm representing her."

"That's more than enough to me, Santana. Thank you."

"You love her, huh?"

"I care for her." He says evasively.

"Even if you've hurt her?"

"Forget those who hurt you yesterday, but don't forget who loves you tenderly today." He says with a wink.

Santana will find herself thinking about Puck's last words. It seemed like he was speaking about Lauren.

It just felt like he wasn't.

Not really.

/

* * *

Santana's walking absentmindedly back to her office when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she sees Brittany.

"Are you okay, San?"

"Yeah. I'm just thinking."

"Hmm." Brittany nods, evidently worried. "Good lunch?"

"Yeah. Food was great."

"That was Puck, right?"

"Hmm."

"He seems, uh, matured and uh, tamed." Santana chuckles and Brittany knows she'll do anything to hear that sound again. Before they know it, they've reached their respective doors. Santana's hand is on the knob, Puck's words echoing in her head.

_"Forget those who hurt you yesterday, but don't forget who loves you tenderly today."_

"Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you really do?"

"You mean my work?"

"Yes."

"Well, I give out information to my clients."

"What kind of information?"

"Whatever they need." She answers, noticing Santana's eyes glowing. "Why? Do you need anything? I can..." She trails on, unsure of what Santana really wants.

"Do you know Lauren Zizes?"

"No. But I can. You know, know her for you." Brittany mentally slapped herself for being incoherent. "Do you want to come inside my office and discuss it? That is, if you're not doing something or meeting someone."

"Nah. My next meeting is at 4. Are you sure it's okay? I mean, you must be working on something."

"It's cool. Come on in." She holds the door for Santana and waits for her to get in before closing it.

"You have a very, _different,_ office." Santana notes. Indeed, Brittany's office is quirky and is a far cry from the traditional work office (like Santana's bare one). Children could very much love Brittany's office.

"Yeah. Bad?"

"Nah. It's so cool."

"So I'm cool?" Brittany teases, that sense of familiarity slowly creeping in.

"Yep. A little old, but cool nonetheless." Santana ribs back.

"Hey! I resent that! I'm not old."

"Yes, you are. You're 31. But it's okay. People who are 50 should have offices like this. Kinda amazeballs."

"You're not so young yourself, so stop using that word."

"I think I'll paint my office black. That'd be badass. Am I allowed to, by the way?"

"Of course. You can do anything you want." They fell into a comfortable silence until Santana breaks it.

"So. About that Zizes thing?"

"Oh yeah! Let me just get my pad and pencil."

"You still use pad and pencil?"

"Yeah. Why? It makes me feel badass, as you succinctly put it. And I think better when I write things down. So tell me about Zizes and what you want to know about her."

Santana starts with who Lauren is, why Santana wants to know things about her, and the circumstances surrounding her case. She then enumerates the questions she wants to be answered and as soon as she's done, Brittany looks at the paper pensively.

"You can't represent her, San." She says softly. "She's too...risky for your career."

"I know. I just want to take a look into it. I promised Noah that."

"Okay. Also, word on the street is that Schuester is starting a confidential file on you so he'll know every client you take on. He's going to go up against you in all the cases you'll take - big or small."

"Perfect. I just have _the _perfect life." Before Brittany could say anything, Candice bursts into the office with an announcement.

"Atty. Lopez, Miss Fabray has entered your office. She looks pissed."

"She always looks pissed. I'll be there, Candice, thank you."

"Anytime. Oh! And there are a couple of guys and girls who came here before lunch. I think they wanted a photo with you or something. Good thing they can't get in without the door pass. Good job, boss Brittany!"

"It's the media's fault." Brittany huffs. "Has anybody harassed you at home or wherever?"

"Yes. I moved in with Quinn because of that. A man broke into my apartment one night, trying to snoop at my files."

"Have you filed a report?" Britt asks, alarm shooting in her chest.

"Of course. Quinn and Atty. Smith had the court issue a restraining order against the guy. Apparently, he's working for some media outlet."

"Just be careful."

"I will. And Quinn's home security is topnotch. I can finally sleep."

"That's good."

"Yeah. Anyway, I gotta go. Thank you for your help, Britt."

"Anytime. And please, don't take the case."

"Hmm."

Brittany looks at Santana's retreating form anxiously. She has enough reason to worry. When they were talking, Santana had that look in her eyes. Brittany knows that if she sees an opening - no matter how tiny or almost impossible it is - she's going to dive in.

And from what she's been hearing about Will Schuester, he's just waiting for his own opening too.

He'll be like a ferocious tiger waiting for his prey.

/

* * *

**Notes:**

**1.) In this story, Puck and Quinn did not date, ergo, no Beth.**

**2.) New York does not have a death penalty at the moment. For this story however, death penalty is practiced.**

**Let me know what you think! All errors are my fault :P**


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